From the Mouths of Babes
by Dusha
Summary: This is an AU fic but with all of our favorite characters especially Harry, Tom, and Janeway. How would a catastrophic past influence the future. The aftermath profoundly affects the life of Harry Kim and the way the rest of the crew react to him. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_The standard disclaimer applies here. I don't own Star Trek in any of its incarnations. Darn. That'd be cool if I did though. I have to admit that it was inspired by another story, on another website, that I can't remember right now. Suffice to say, it was great, it lit the fire under the butt of my muse and together we wrote this bad boy. As per usual, I have to thank Pisces, my beta reader. No more jumping off roofs. _

From the Mouths of Babes

            He was a drain on the ship. Those resources could be put to so much better use, keeping the baby healthy, keeping their reserve stocks higher just incase, repairing the ship, and a thousand other things. He wouldn't get in the way during emergencies, though he usually didn't leave his quarters when there was trouble, and most importantly she wouldn't have to agonize over one more person. Shuddering, Captain Kathryn Janeway couldn't believe that she had been reduced to thinking such thoughts. The Delta Quadrant hadn't and wouldn't change the integral parts of her life including her ideals, or so she kept telling herself. But then again, she should have known that they were going to be compromised the moment she accepted the gift. She just couldn't say no to him, though, and blindly accepted. 

            Now, as a consequence, she had near-murderous thoughts circling in her head. No, they weren't murder, if anything it would put him out of his misery. She couldn't imagine living the way he did, not even being able to know. He was her responsibility though, whether she liked it or not. That had been decided the moment that she had said, "Yes."

***

            "Come on Katy. It'll be good for you. I know you way to well to know that you're going to work to death on the tour. Just do me a favor and take him alone to lighten the load." The visual of her fiancé, Mark, was almost too much to bear. After he had so sweetly anticipated her and taken her dogs into his care, she couldn't see herself turning him down.

            "You know how I feel about this. It's not that it's wrong, God knows we could be doing something a lot worse like genocide, but it just doesn't settle right with me." Kathryn had a hard time expressing the rock-hard feeling in her stomach whenever this subject came up. It was like there was something in her that wouldn't let her condemn this age-old practice, however, she wasn't exactly a conscious objector either. She tried to tread the fine line between openly showing her distain, and quietly going along with the crowd.

            "Please? For me Katy?" Mark pleaded, looking at her with those eyes that she could never could say no to. Even though, she was going to give it the old 'college try'. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

            Placing her chin in her hand on her new desk, she countered, "Am I the only one who thinks that it borders dangerously on slavery?"

            "What?" Mark looked at her with an expression of surprise, and then shook his head knowingly. "You always were a lost cause."

            "You say that as if it is a bad thing. It's just something that I'm not sure I agree with."

            "You always are the opinionated one, aren't you? Then again, that's one of the things I love about you." He smiled softly at her, but quickly returned to the matter at hand. "I'm serious Katy. You know that we treat them with a lot more respect then other people would. Admit it, you know that if it were any other people or planet they would have been killed off, either by the people or by nature. We take care of them."

            "Yes, and you just want me to take care of him," Janeway sighed. This was the last time she ever wasted her breath arguing with Mark. She always ended up loosing anyway. He was the only person she ever lost to.

            "Just think of what could happen to him if you don't. I've heard the Orions can fetch a pretty decent price for an Asian like him. He's quiet, speaks very little English, submissive, and above all very easily taken advantage of." His voice was soft, but he knew that he had her; hook, line and sinker.

            Janeway was sure that Mark was unconsciously or consciously appealing to the humanitarian side of her that she could never ignore. Janeway settled into the contours of her seat. It felt comfortable, unlike her current situation. Trying to justify the decision she knew she would eventually make to herself, she attempted to take solace in the cold facts of the cultural norm. "I suppose this will pull me out of another minority. Most captains have a boy or girl."

            "So you have nothing to fret over." Mark smiled. "Think of it as penance for America dropping those bombs on his countries."

            "And if worse comes to worse, he's coming right back to you."

            Mark mock-saluted. "Yes ma'am"

            "See you soon."

            "I love you Katy."

***

            Janeway heard the slightest shuffle in the corner of her room. After the tenseness of the past few days, she jumped and instinctively spun in the direction of the noise. "Who's there?" 

After her nerves had calmed and adrenaline realized that it wasn't needed, Janeway realized who it had to be. She had kept the lights down, since it helped her to mull over tough decisions, and from one of the resultant shadows, the person in question appeared.

He carried a steaming cup of coffee, the hot vapor shrouding his face, but he did not seem to notice. Timidly he walked over to her desk, the same one she had seen herself at during her reverie, and set down the cup. Janeway couldn't help but smile; she hadn't even asked for any.

"Thanks Harry. I need some of this. Sometimes you just seem to know exactly what I'm craving even when I don't." She looked up from her padd, making sure that she studied his every feature. After all, she was deciding his fate, but then again, people had been doing that for him ever since the day he was born.

Classically, he stared down at his fleet-issue boots, most likely not comprehending what she had said. His dark hair made him look so young, something that she had commented on shortly after she had met him. She could tell from the swatch of hair in his face and the flitting expression on his face that he felt as if he needed to get any recalcitrant locks hair back where they belonged, as if a domineering commander was inspecting him. He wouldn't move though, not in front of her. He wore a wrinkled blue t-shirt with faded, tattered black pants, which fashionably could have matched much better. No one wasted replicator rations on him, though, and he had none of his own to use. Therefore, he had the same outfit he did when he came on board, two long years ago. 

All through those two years, he acted as obedient as the family dog. He asked for nothing, not even dinner when Janeway forgot to tell him to go to the mess hall. Initially she had liked to know where he was at all times; afraid of what he might accidentally do if he was to wander by himself. Back then, he would simply wait until Janeway remembered, never acknowledging her apologies, and eventually she simply stopped making excuses and just let him go whenever the mood struck him. 

The light from the stars highlighted streaks of silver-blue into his hair, but he still didn't move as the minutes dragged on and Janeway continued to study him. Janeway couldn't decide if it was easy or hard to tell that this boy was a victim of horrible radiation contamination in the Asian gene pool that had wreaked havoc on the populations of nearly all Asian countries. When America, Russia The African League of Nations, and the European Union had been forced to use nuclear and quasi-antimatter bombs on Asia during the Third World War, there was no way they could have predicted the outcome. The nuclear fallout, coupled with the polyladium radiation poisoning that covered that quarter of the world was only stopped from spreading to the rest of the human race by the hastily opportune invention of force fields.

The peoples of the countries, all Asian, that had been affected though, didn't have the luxury of being cleansed by force fields. The physical genetic mutations that resulted from the scrambled DNA died down over the centuries, simply by the Darwin effect taking its natural course. The mental disabilities, however, had never lessened. If anything, the affected populaces replaced the dwindling pool of people who were still willing to do menial jobs. They didn't know better, it was proven by scientists conclusively that they couldn't even if they wanted to, so people did what they could to help. The DNA mutations, in later years, had been pronounced irreversible, and since then there had been no breeding between Asians and other ethnic groups for fear of the same mutations showing up in multiethnic children. No sane parent was willing to subject their child to a horrible, debilitated life if they could prevent it. Therefore no 'clean' DNA had been infused into the plagued populace, accounting for their current situation.

"Thank you Harry," Janeway repeated.

Softly he answered, "You're welcome ma'am."

Janeway smiled. As far as she knew, that was one of the few phrases in English that the young man knew and understood. Quickly he glanced up to see if she was still studying him. Their eyes met for an instant, and in the deep, dark recesses of his eyes, Janeway thought she saw a flicker of something there. Embarrassment, maybe? It couldn't be.

"Dismissed."

"Yes ma'am." Harry turned, with almost military precision and left. Janeway figured he must have picked it up from one of the lesser officers who had been practicing on parade. 

He didn't take up to much room and, in all honesty, she didn't know what she would do with him otherwise. Abandoning him to the Delta Quadrant equivalent of Orions would do nothing for her conscience. She decided to tell Chakotay that Harry was staying, at least for the time being.


	2. Chapter 2

***

Chakotay entered the ready room silently, feeling the weight of the decision that he knew she had made bearing down on everything. He knew what he wanted to answer to be, but she was the Captain. Ultimately, the choice was her's alone. 

"I've decided," Janeway stated without pretense. She knew that her first officer had been waiting silently for the result of her deliberation and felt no reason to delay any longer. Saying it aloud made her judgment seem much more solid and irrevocable. 

Standing in front of her, Chakotay felt relief wash through his system unimpeded and her realized the amount of emotion he had attached to the verdict. An unhealthy amount. 

"You know how I feel about him," he reminded her, lest she forget somehow.

Janeway smiled reminiscently, "I assure you that what you and the rest of the crew feel was something I had to consider."

"The rest of the crew?" Inquiringly Chakotay's eyebrows went up, and unconscious simile of what Tuvok's reaction undoubtedly would have been. "I'm curious as to hear exactly whose opinion you based the rest of the crew's on."

Being first officer, it had surprised Chakotay initially how crewmembers-both Starfleet and Maquis-had come to him with complaints, suggestions, and praise they were unwilling to tell the Captain themselves. He had never known before, on the _Liberty,_ exactly how subjective his information was, both about the Cardassians and the ebbs and tides of his own crew. Now that he was in the position to pick up on the faster-than-light communications that sped through the ship, he had vowed that he would never let Janeway be in the same predicament that he had been. The dangerous trap of being oblivious, but thinking that he knew all. 

"You and I both know that there are mixed feelings about Harry being here at all," Janeway started, staring deeply into her first officer's eyes. She couldn't help but wonder if she would have been this in tune with Cavit, had he survived their journey into the Delta Quadrant, or if they would have gotten as far as they had without Chakotay's unique brand of leadership and ingenuity.

"I agree," Chakotay answered guardedly. It was important for him to know exactly what Janeway did and didn't know before her told her what he thought of her decisions and her reasons behind it. That meant playing defense. The only problem with his tactic was that Janeway was also measuring him coolly, not attacking. Without an offense to defend from, any defense will become lax and fall.

"Let's cut to the chase," Janeway suddenly demanded, tired of their cat and mouse game. "We both know that there are people who think that Harry is no more than a piece of luggage that should be thrown off the ship because he is too cumbersome. There is an equal amount of people who see him as an unfortunate member of humanity that they feel responsible for. Thought they wouldn't give their life for him, they aren't about to throw him away like a leper either. No matter what I do I can only please half of the ship. The only real question here is this: who am I willing to upset for the sake of the other half?"

Chakotay frowned, puzzled by her admission. "So the truth of what would be the right thing to do is subjective, since it's based on the differing views of the crew, not on Harry's future?"

The disappointment in his voice stung at Janeway. "Are you saying that you think that I don't care about what happens to Harry?" 

"I may have gotten that impression," was Chakotay's carefully neutral reply.

Feeling her resolve falter, as it so often did when she argued a moral point with the highly principled Native American man before her, Janeway decided not to hide her thoughts. "I truthfully can't tell you whether your impressions are right, Chakotay. I don't know what to do with Harry-I haven't from the first day I got him. I know you're going to say that I've put up with him for this long, so why back out now, but I swear to you I don't know if I'm strong enough. He's so different, I don't know what to do with him."

"Isn't that the way you felt about some of my crew when we first came on board? I distinctly remember you having reservations about B'Elanna being a civilized Starfleet officer, much less the Chief Engineer of _Voyager_. And Tom Paris? The man is an ex-con, you could even argue an ex-murderer if you wanted. You don't seem to have any questions about their loyalty anymore," Chakotay argued.

Janeway conceded his point with a nod. This was why she valued Chakotay's insight so much. He, of all people, helped her keep her life and her responsibilities in perspective. "That must be why I decided to let him stay."

Her first officer studied her. He had been under the impression that during their whole conversation he had been trying to convince her to change her decision from what it initially was. A question still plagued him, despite the verdict. "Are you saying that you didn't have a reason before?"

"Not exactly," Janeway smiled tiredly, but mischievously in his direction. "I ht5ink I knew the right thing to do, I just needed you to tell me why it was the right thing to do."

Chakotay returned her smile with a flashing one of his own, but his expression turned to one of concentrated thoughtfulness after Janeway leaned forward in her chair as she asked, "What do you think of him, Chakotay?"

"Personally?"

"That's the opinion I value the most."

"Personally then," Chakotay admitted, "I think that Harry is like a child. He needs guidance, protection, and someone to emulate. I don't know if he has found that here," he treaded carefully, "and I don't know if he can or can't do all of the things that the Doctor and others say. All I know is from what I've observed of him, and that tells me only that he is a reserved, submissive boy with no free will. I can't imagine how anyone could live in that state, so the idea of empathizing with him is something that I have a hard time doing. Living as long as he has without being able to have control over your own destiny is something that no one on the ship can understand. I try, but you're right-he is very different from us."

"It's nice to know that I'm not alone," Janeway confessed.

"You're never alone, Captain."

Turning to leave, Chakotay smiled at the kindness that Janeway was showing. No matter what, or where, or why, he knew he could trust her decisions.

***

"Lt. Torres, ma'am?" With all of the clattering echoing off the contours of main engineering, B'Elanna Torres almost missed the small voice that hailed her. Sliding out from under the charred remains of the main console, she bit back a sigh as she lay on the floor after realizing it was only Harry.

"Hey there," she greeted him much as she would a child. "I'm kind of busy right now, Harry, so whatever you need can wait, okay?" Awkwardly, the boy thrust out a padd he had kept previously hidden behind his back. "It is from the Captain."

Eagerly, Torres jumped up and snatched the padd from Harry's hands. The specs on the padd were exactly what she needed to repair the most extensive damage after the Arthiorian attack. Behind her gaggles of crewmen worked in teams trying to repair the worst of the damage, but the main chamber still looked like a battle zone. The ominously dark warp core framed with broken conduits and wiring like a mechanical halo around it only accentuated the sense of urgency that spurred everyone on. Harry hung back as she devoured the information, waiting to see if she wanted him to do anything, or if she would just tell him to leave her in peace. His eyes widened when they fell upon the half-functioning main console, and from a distance he studied the vague readouts.

"Harry, tell the Captain that I need to reroute the phaser power through the auxiliary manifolds if she wants them to stay online at all. Can you remember that? The phaser power through the auxiliary manifolds. Harry? Harry? Are you even listening to me?" Waving an exasperated hand through the boy's line of sight, B'Elanna tried to regain the Asian's flighty attention. That was the last thing she needed, a stupid kid getting in her way.

"This is wrong," he startled her by saying. Then, refocusing his gaze to look at her with a childlike comprehension in his eyes, he cocked his head in her direction. "Am I right?"

Puzzled, Torres came over to see exactly what he was referring to. "What's wrong?"

"This wave isn't the same as before." The young man pointed bashfully at one of the now-lit indicators. The steady rise and fall of the graph looked the same as usual, but when Torres bent over for a closer inspection it revealed that the amplitude was actually almost half of what was normal. 

Staring in awe at Harry, Torres questioned, "No it's not. How did you know?"

Harry simply shrugged. "I noticed it." He turned his eyes away from her's, as if afraid that she would become angry at his discovery.

"Harry, that's amazing. I didn't even notice that myself." Careful not to praise him too much, Torres gave him a searching look. One thing that she hadn't seen up to now, nor ever planned on seeing period, was an Asian who could out-think her. "Is there anything else wrong?"

"No, but maybe…if you fix the…." His voice was halting, as if trying to find the correct English words, but just as her started to get passionate about what he said, he trailed off. Reconsidering, he settled with, "I am sorry. I do not know."

Torres had no platitudes on showing her obvious disbelief with his shoddy excuse. "Uhuh. Right." Still, Torres had a hard time believing that this poor, Asian kid could have really diagnosed the problem with any amount of accuracy. She was a firm believer in dumb luck, which undoubtedly attributed to the kid's miraculous observation. "Well," she decided to simply dismiss the traitorous ideas floating around in her head. "Just get those reports to the Captain, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." 

That was more like the kid she was used to. She had to admit, she liked him better that way. Young and impressionable, ignorant of everything except for the jobs that he was given by people who knew more then he did. He didn't have to worry about anything other than his own well-being. What a life, Torres thought, when you have hostile aliens hiding behind every planet and nebula waiting for your demise. With a sigh, the Chief Engineer resumed her hurried repairs before their attackers caught them unaware again.

***

            Tom Paris was as exhausted as the rest of the crew. Not only had he pulled double shifts in sickbay, but after that B'Elanna had somehow managed to cajole him into helping her realign the controls from the helm. She had argued, quite forcefully, that since he prided himself in his position as Chief Helmsman the least he could do was help repair the system. Knowing better than to dispute the Klingon that peaked out from behind her emotional walls, Paris had readily agreed. 

            Now, though, after all was said and done, he wanted nothing more than to sit down with a bowl of soup and relax. He really couldn't imagine himself doing that, knowing what precarious shape the ship was in, but he thought he could at the very least pretend. He was desperate for a break in the stress, confusion, and fear that soaked into every corner of the ship, feeding off the energy of every crewman.

            Trampling wearily into the mess hall, Paris nodded a tired hello to the scraggly group of shipmates that returned the gesture. As he trudged to the counter where Neelix was serving a thick stew of some sort, Tom couldn't help but notice that the mess hall was more crowded than usual. Paris decided that this was because of the recharging warp-drive, and the fact that it required very little monitoring. This was the first opportunity many had to get a bit to eat, and like Tom they savored it. If the power up was completed they would at least have partial warp power, maybe up to Warp 3 B'Elanna had said. Good, they might need it.

            Not exactly in the mood for conversation, but neither in the mood for solitude, Tom 

stepped away from Neelix before the Talaxian could engage him in idle conversation and pondered where to sit. Practically lost in a corner, Paris caught sight of Harry, using a table for two. Throwing caution to the wind, and deciding he could always leave should he be to uncomfortable, Tom made his way over to the younger man.

            "Well hey there Harry, you seem to be doin' pretty good, all things considered. Mind if I sit down?"

            The young man looked up from his plate on the table, which he had been studying rather than eating, and simply stared, wide-eyed, at Tom. Inwardly, Tom groaned. He had tried to have conversations once in a while with Harry, but he never seemed to understand a word Tom said. Perhaps it was because of Paris's bad habit of chewing up the end of his words, and profuse use of contemporary and 20th century slang. It was a wonder he was able to communicate with people who spoke Standard fluently.

            Despite this minor setback, Tom decided to sit down, mulling over a plan of action. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was somewhat like he, when he first came aboard anyway. Now people respected him, or at the very least tolerated him, and that was good enough for Paris. When someone has spent their life being looked down upon by others, suddenly being eye-to-eye with people can be startling. Harry would always be looked down upon though, and Tom pitied him for that fact. 

            It had never really bothered Paris before, because he knew that Harry would never mind. Harry would never be able to even realize that some people frowned upon him as the scum of society. He also wouldn't know that some people could sympathize with him, like Tom. In the instant that their eyes had met, though, Tom could have sworn he saw some deep emotion stirring the depths of the young Asian's soul. Or maybe he had just been imagining it. He was very tired.

            "Yeah, well, you know, things really are lookin' up," Tom commented, his fatigue adding to his garbled words. "I wish you could understand all the work we've been puttin' in."

            At the last comment, Paris noticed Harry's shoulders droop. He seemed so sad all of a sudden. Worriedly, the pilot asked, "Harry, are you okay?"

            Turning his eyes once again in Paris's direction, Harry didn't answer. Instead, he attempted to clear his expressive face of any emotion there, but his animated eyes couldn't be shielded. Frustrated, Tom tried to think of something to say that Harry might understand. He didn't know why he was so anxious to know what was wrong, but he simply knew he had to help. This Asian was still a fellow human being after all.

            Groping for a memory, Tom remembered when his father had temporarily bought some help for around the house. The help came in the form of two middle-aged women, one Chinese and the other Korean. He remembered them playing with him as a child, and the Korean woman trying to teach him a foreign language until his father found out and banished her.

            "Um… Otoke chi-ne-go-ke-shim-ni-ka? *How are you? *" Paris attempted to ask, in what little Korean he knew, if Harry was all right. Harry's incredulous look of surprise was shown as he replied,

            "Han-gul-rul-ha-shim-ni-kka? *Do you speak Korean? *" 

            Tom laughed at the absolute wonder in Harry's voice, and was forced to admit negatively, "Ah-ni-o." Knowing that the young man's question might have been a feeble attempt to steer Tom off his course of finding out what was wrong. Tom would have thought that the Asian would have realized by now that there was a reason that Tom was the best pilot in both the Alpha and Delta Quadrant. "Otoke chi-ne-go-ke-shim-ni-ka?" he repeated.

            Harry hesitated, trying to find a simple way to answer that the Lieutenant would understand. He settled on an easy "Cho-sum-ni-da *good *." 

            Tom wasn't stupid though. Something was wrong, and he knew it. It didn't matter to him that this kid was an Asian, Romulan, or Denebian, he still felt the need to find out what was troubling him. If anything it was because people for so long had never bothered to ask him when he really needed it. Maybe that would have stopped him a long time ago from traveling the self-destructive path that he had. 

            Shaking his head, he started in Standard, "Don't lie to me." Cursing his ineptitude with the young man's native language he simply repeated his question.

            Harry looked morosely at the food still piled on his plate, not touched, and whispered, "I would not lie."

            Tom's look of shock mirrored Harry's earlier one, and it only deepened when Harry stood to leave. "An-nyong-hi ka-ship-sio *Goodbye *."

            "But Harry, I didn't mean to insult you. Hey, kid," Tom tried to apologize, but Harry simply ignored him. Knowing the classic behavior of someone unwilling to or not used to having someone care about him, Tom let Harry go. He had been that way himself before, and could sympathize. It was understandable, especially if you were going to be treated like dirt for the rest of your life like Harry.

            "An-nyong-hi ka-ship-sio, kid"


	3. Chapter 3

***

            "Captain, we have a problem." The strong bass voice belonging to her Tactical officer woke Janeway from a half-induced catnap. 

            "Yes Tuvok. What else has gone wrong?" With the recent attack by the Arthiorians the ship seemed to be falling apart like a papier-mâché figure without enough glue. The only thing that could possibly make it any more worse would be….

            "We have picked up a fleet of ships on an attack vector. From what few sensor readings we were able to salvage for the last attack, these ships appear to be Arthiorians. 

            Getting up as soon as Tuvok started, Janeway grabbed for her padd that held the tactical data from the battle on it while demanding, "What shape is the ship in?"

            "Shields are at 29% and phaser power is at 54.2%. The launch bays for the torpedoes are still severely damaged and inoperable."

            Not good, not good at all, Janeway mused to herself. Aloud she only reassured, "Well, if we can't beat them with firepower, maybe we can out-think them."

            "Their tactics are implemented at random, Captain." Chakotay's steady voice now flowed over her. "I think we should be prepared for the worst." 

            Flushing with anger, Janeway was grateful that she was still safe in the confines of her ready room. Careworn to keep her voice level she coldly intoned, "I am aware of that, Commander."

            "Yes ma'am." Chakotay sounded contrite. 

            Letting the door swish open for her, Janeway stepped confidently onto the bridge. "Battle stations."

            Various "yes, ma'ams" answered her order as she slid into her well-worn command chair. Calling up the tactical display on the arm of her chair she admitted to herself that things didn't look positive. Not that she would confess this to her crew. They knew nothing but the confident, sometimes aggressive Captain that had lead them through more impossible fights then any of them could have imagined being in. 

            "Captain, I'm picking up at least three battle cruisers, but the sensors are sketchy at best, so there could be more or less," Byrd reported confidently from the Operations station. 

            "They appear to be powering weapons," Tuvok crisply added. 

            "Mr. Paris, evasive maneuvers. Tuvok, show them that if they want a fight, they've got one." Belatedly and entirely unnecessarily Janeway tiredly added, "Red Alert," adding quietly to herself, _again._

***

            The next thing Janeway remembered was waking up. It was warm, partly because of the humidity, and it wasn't for a few minutes that she realized that someone's jacket had been placed over her to keep her warm. 

            "Oh thank God. Commander! Commander! She's awake!" The deep voice of Tom Paris jolted her awake and she struggled to open her eyes. Until that moment, she hadn't noticed that they had even been closed.

            "Mr. Paris? Status?"

            Tom bent down towards her, and she realized that she was lying on a soggy ground that had leached into her clothing, causing her to shiver despite the heat. "It's okay Captain. You need to rest."

            "No…" Janeway attempted to struggle into a sitting position, and when Tom realized that she would get that way with or without his help, he put his arm around her back to help. By that time, Chakotay had made it into the ailing Captain's vision.

            "Commander?" It was the only question she had to ask.

            "Captain, when the ship was taken over-"

            "My ship? Why don't I remember?"

            "You were knocked unconscious by the Ops console exploding after Danny died," Chakotay tried to reassure her. She could see the pain in his eyes when he mentioned the death of the well-liked Ops officer. She closed her eyes in respect, remembering how she had been forced to push the young man's body out of the way to reach the controls. 

            "Then what?"

            "Well," Chakotay continued, "we were all knocked out somehow, Tom and a few others seem to remember a gas of some sort, and the next thing we realized we were on this planet. It's tropical in climate, and there are plenty of types of food for us to survive on. The Arthiorians aren't cruel at least."

            "What about the crew?" Janeway asked. She had to take time to get over the 'temporary' loss of her ship, but her crew had to be safe.

            "We lost four in the fighting, and we have wounded like you." Janeway winced at the fatality number. Even such a few crewmen were an injurious blow to the ships compliment, not to mention morale. Chakotay finished with a regretful, "Lastly, we have four people missing."

            That was an odd way to phrase it, and Janeway caught it. "People?"

            "Neelix, Kes, Holodoc, and Harry." 

            Oh God, that meant it would be up to the three of them to take over the ship. All three of them were humanitarians at heart, and it was hard for her to imagine that they could implement a hostile take over of the ship. "Why them?"

            Chakotay shrugged. "I've been wondering the same thing." 

            Tom, who had been listening to the two of them offered, "Well, holodoc's self-explanatory: he can't go anywhere but sickbay. We never even got the holo-imagers in engineering and the bridge working. They probably thought that Neelix and Kes could teach them about the ship, but not be much trouble. You have to admit, neither of them look very intimidating. As for Harry, I have no idea."

            "Maybe they kept Harry because they thought that he would be something that they could bargain with." Torres had walked up during Tom's conjecturing and threw in her two cents. When Tom gave her a quizzical look she explained, "You know, if Kes or Neelix or Holodoc won't do what they say they could threaten to kill him or something."

            "Maybe," Janeway allowed. Something that Mark said the first time they had talked about the young man in question floated to the top of her mind, and she grimaced at the thought. "Or maybe they think that they could simply take advantage of him because he wasn't one of us."

            "True. Harry was the only one on the ship that didn't have a communicator pin. Actually, I can't even remember what his last name is, so I never could have called him Mr. Anything." Tom furthered her guess. 

            "But I saw you speaking to him just yesterday in some weird language." Torres countered. 

            "Korean," Tom admitted, a blush creeping up his face. "Yeah, but that was just because he looked so depressed I thought that any minute he was going to throw himself out an airlock. I happened to know a little from when I was a kid, and that's it. I could barely talk to him at first, 'cause it seemed that he didn't understand a word I said in Standard, but when I accused him of lying he yelled back at me in pretty good English."

            "I know what you mean. At one time I thought that maybe he would have a flare for engineering, but then he seemed to lose it." Torres shook her head as she remembered. "I just don't know what to make of him. He seems to be smart but then…he's Asian, so it's impossible." Torres hated to admit when something puzzled her, but when she thought about it Harry was an enigma to her and the rest of the crew. 

            "We can worry about Harry's psyche later," Janeway announced. Taking for granted later came and any of them still cared about this when it came. "Right now let's concentrate on using what we have to survive, and then escape."

***

            Kes struggled in Neelix's grip, her petite stature radiating hatred. Flitting on the other side of consciousness, she could hear a voice pleading for help. The aura from which the cry emanated was dim, flickering in and out with every blow to it. She could feel the pain, the fear, and the humiliation that was slowly tearing the glow apart, maliciously plucking away parts of it until there would be no more. Kes also knew that the perpetrators of all the vicarious pain she could feel were directly in front of her. They grinned spitefully at her, daring her to break free from Neelix's restraining, but safe grasp.

            "Don't Kes. If you do, there'll be no way to help him," Neelix whispered into her ear, trying to reason with her. It was only in situations like these that he saw hatred in her. When others were being hurt, that was when Kes fought. It didn't matter to her that it might be hopeless; she had to do things her own way. She was much like Captain Janeway in that respect.

            "But he's in so much pain. They have to right to do this to him!" Kes didn't care that the Arthiorians heard her daring tone. 

            "Child, you really don't expect us to simply let him run free after apprehending him for sabotage? He follows the code of a warrior, who will always try to escape, and it would be dishonorable for me to not punish him accordingly." The Arthiorian commander, neither Neelix nor Kes had bothered to ask him his name, had summoned them to the Captain's readyroom to tell them of the capture of their shipmate.

            At first he had supposed that they had collaborated, and that there was more to the plan then simple tinkering in engineering. Slowly though, through the questioning of the two there and the interrogation of the one captured, he realized that the other child had acted alone. Rather than punish them all, for he knew that if anyone laid a hand on the female the most vocal one of the group who seemed to be her protector would never cooperate again, he would concentrate on the one who had attempted the sabotage. 

            "Why are you so cruel?" Kes's eyes flashed to the Commander's, daring him to try to justify himself to her. "Why do you have to torture him?"

            It still puzzled the Commander as to how this young girl knew the methods of persuasion that he and his men used, but he dismissed it as a quirk of these people. "You ask too many questions, child, being in the position that you are. I would not press my good graces. It is only by them that you are still alive. I didn't even have to inform you of the fate of your crew, but I did as a courtesy."

            He settled back in the Captain's chair, boldly taking possession of every part of the ship, even the sacred chair that Janeway spent so much time in. Neelix glanced between the Commander and the woman he loved, torn as to what to do. Harry was so young, and while he didn't have Kes's empathic powers, he had been able to pick up on the fact that Harry was hurting. "Don't let him die," he said, trying to keep his voice from sounding like he was pleading.

            "He's seen your doctor more than once," the commander sneered as he waved his hand. The two Voyagers' guards flanked them, and began to escort them away. "After all, he wouldn't provide any entertainment if he was dead."

            "He'll be of no use to you, whatever, if you don't give him some sort of reprieve. I know from experience that humans can only take so much abuse before they break down, both physically and mentally. I fear that you are treading that line, sir, and soon that boy will be of no use to you, dead or alive." Neelix poured every ounce of logic, the weapon he had seen Tuvok wield with such devastating results so skillfully and which he admired so much, into his convictions. Humanitarian ideas may influence a person that still had a soul, but with people like the Arthiorians the only thing to appeal to was their sense of greed.

            The commander's eyes widened at the thought. "Perhaps," he conceded, then smiled sinisterly, "and perhaps not. Maybe I will let him die, and then start on her." Barbarically he grabbed Kes's arm and pulled her toward him until she stumbled into the desk, making his hidden threat all the more menacing. 

            Rebelliously Kes struggled in the constricting grip. He reminded her too much of Jabin, and she had vowed a long time ago that she would never be subjected to that sort of treatment ever again. Still…if it could help Harry…. The pain and fear that crowded her mind from him made her shiver every time she focused on it. She saw Neelix stiffen protectively across from her, and willed him to not do anything drastic. Getting himself shot, or worse put in the same position as Harry, would not help anyone.

            Gauging their reactions the Arthiorian laughed, pleased at their discomfort, but tired of his game. He released Kes's arms, but allowed himself one last predatory glance at her body. "Go, now," he smirked. "Before I think of something better to do with you."

***

            The doctor had a plan, or so he thought. Having only two other useful crewmates on board made it necessary that the plan wasn't a gigantic feat of strategy, but it didn't need to be. It's only purpose: recapture the ship. Sardonically, he had always wondered at the use of 'recapture'. Humanoids complained that 'capturing' had a negative connotation, but when they were getting back what was rightfully theirs suddenly 'recapturing' had a noble, courageous aura to it. Not that syntax mattered now. No, at the present moment, all that mattered was that he could convince the behemoth looking over his shoulder that he needed Kes. It wouldn't be that hard to do.

            "Coupled with everything else you have put him through, I need to do more extensive and detailed investigation as to Mr. Kim's medical condition, which can only be properly instigated with a dual arrangement of physicians," the EMH prattled, trying to sound as authoritative as he could. It didn't matter that what he said made very little sense to an informed person. If he had learned nothing from observing the crew, especially Captain Janeway, it was that you didn't have to necessarily know what you were doing. You simply had to act like it. 

            The behemoth grunted. "So you need the pixie-child to help?" The Arthiorian had express orders to keep the human on the diagnostic bed alive as long as possible, to wring information on the ship out of and simply for amusement's sake.

            Rolling his eyes expressively the Doctor answered, "Yes. Kes. I need her." He changed his speech to be slow, as if addressing an idiot. The Arthiorian didn't seem to notice, only reinforcing the comparison. "Get her now."

            Not taking his eyes from the hologram, the Arthiorian grunt backed away from the patient and attendant physician to activate the still functioning comm system. He prided himself on not being stupid enough to let the Doctor out of his sight for a minute. Just because this creature had no life signs didn't mean that he could be taken lightly. 

            After confirming that the guard had indulged his request, the EMH returned to his patient. He had seen more of this young man in the last week then he had in the previous two years on the ship. A normal human, he hadn't seen the physical and mental discrepancies that his program insisted existed. A recessive protocol in his program negated any ideas he might have of sharing this information with the Captain ridding any thoughts other than the fact that the patient was Asian, against the better judgment of his humanitarian protocols. The same protocol didn't stop him from treating the young man, though, and as sensors slowly described in gruesome detail the various injuries the Doctor stifled an all too human sigh. 

            Even coming up 15 decks didn't take very long, and at that moment the sickbay doors slid open to admit Kes and another Arthiorian apprentice-dictator. Eyes fastening to the unconscious, bruised, pale, and taught face of Kim, Kes rushed to the diagnostic table's edge. "Oh no," she whispered. If the surface signs were anything like the internal sufferings she felt from him it was a wonder he was still alive at all. 

            Moving to the same side of the diagnostic bed as Kes, and making sure that the two guards' voices lifted in animated discussion drowned out his own, the Doctor leaned over. "Kes, I need you to help me retake the ship. I have a plan, but I need your and Mr. Neelix's help," he murmured. 

            "But Harry-" she gasped. She couldn't believe that the hologram would abandon someone in such obviously dire need of his expertise. 

            "I have done everything I can for Mr. Kim, with what few instruments our captors will allow me access to." Evidently the Arthiorian race was still steeped in mythology and magic, and therefore they deemed any medical instrument that reminded them of something evil, or did something they had never seen before, unusable. The only reason they had made it into space, the Doctor hypothesized, was because some irresponsible spacefarer had crashed on their planet and allowed them to analyze their ship. Undoubtedly after they let their local shamans de-ghost it. There was no other explanation, in the EHM's mind, that an egocentric, chronically suspicious, and highly fantasy-obsessed culture such as the Arthiorians could travel among the stars. "The faster we take possession of the ship the faster I can properly treat Mr. Kim."

            Kes's expression had been close to tears, but with the EMH's admission of a battle plan to help the pain-riddled young man she saw on the bed, a look of determination settled on her features. "Tell me what you need Neelix and I to do."

            Smiling fondly, but only for a second, the Doctor began to explain.

***

            "I have no idea Captain. Considering that it shouldn't even be working now, it could bend to my computations and die at any moment," B'Elanna Torres grumbled as Janeway peered over her shoulder, making her feel as self-conscious as a child taking a test with a teacher watching her every move. 

            "B'Elanna, we have to keep the transmitter working, or there's no way the ship will know where to find us. I don't care what you have to do, keep it working." As hard as Janeway tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, she could tell by her Chief Engineer's defensive posture that her agitation was contagious. 

            "There's nothing left that I can do, Captain. If it dies now, there's nothing I could do to stop it." B'Elanna, of all people, hated to admit when people or machines defeated her,, but she also thought it stupid to ignore facts. 

            Janeway straightened with a sigh. "Just…do something," she finished tiredly. Torres looked up curiously, but before she could comment Janeway disappeared.

            Slumping onto a nearby rock on the outskirts of the makeshift Starfleet camp, Janeway attempted to gather her thoughts before someone came to find her again to solve some new emergency. At the time, setting up a land-to-space communicator seemed like the best idea. Now it seemed like a futile gesture. In reality it was up to the three crewmembers left on the ship. Who even knew if Harry would help the _Voyager_ crewmen still left on the ship? It was not like he had been treated as an equal, and if the Arthiorians treated him as an equal, for some reason that was beyond her, what would keep him from joining them. Nothing. 

            Still, he could help them, and any minute she might hear the footfalls of a two person rescue team trampling through the forest, guided by their crude beacon. As if conjured up by her wishes, a branch broke behind her, and Janeway spun around on her rock. She relaxed immediately when she realized who it was. 

            "Chakotay," she greeted him simply. She honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. 

            "Captain. I was wondering if you were planning on joining the rest of us for dinner. Standard survival procedures state that, when possible, all crewmembers should eat three meals in preparation for a time when they might have to go for extended periods of time without food and water and to keep their physical and mental capabilities at their maximum to most facilitate their undoubted endeavor to get out of the situation they are in."

            Janeway lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "I've read the handbook, Chakotay. There has to be some other reason that you're here." 

            "Actually yes," Chakotay said candidly. "The crew doesn't benefit from seeing their Captain mope in a corner in the middle of a crisis. They need you. They need you to rely on them so we can all get out of this situation."

            Janeway glanced at the Maquis captain. She often wondered if other First Officers were as blunt and sometimes argumentative as Chakotay was, or if she had simply been blessed with someone who never cringed at telling her what he thought. "All right. You win Chakotay. I can mope when we get back to _Voyager_."

            Chakotay smirked, the same way he had the first day they had met. Stretching out an arm so she could grasp his hand, he hauled Janeway to her feet and they set off to the center of camp.

            What met them there was a scene of near chaos. Figuring that the loud noises were only an incarnation of surprisingly high morale, the shock of seeing three stocky, humanoid but blatantly non-Alpha Quadrant forms startled the Captain and First Officer. Towering over the tall, by human standards, Tom Paris, the group of three seemed to be in animated discussion with the helmsman. Quickening their pace to see what Paris was doing, but not being careful not to seem threatening, Janeway and Chakotay joined the Lieutenant to even the ratio of Starfleet officers to new aliens. 

            "Lieutenant Paris, do you mind introducing me to your new friends?" Whatever Tom had been saying before Janeway and Chakotay arrived was cut off by the Captain's firm command voice. 

            The expression on Paris's face told her of the benevolent nature of these new aliens before his words did. "These are the Pachin, Captain. Believe it or not, they picked up our distress signal and came to give what aid they could."

            Despite the reservations flitting in her mind, Janeway felt a warm feeling enter her heart. It was nice to see someone else in this part of the Galaxy that had the same ideals as they did. Torres came up, excitement evident on her face.

            "Captain, the equipment that these people brought with them is amazing!" She smiled at the dark skinned aliens with profound respect. "We should be able to stay here for as long as we need to, and you'll be happy to know that there is no way our beacon is going to break down now, save someone disassembling it."

            Janeway trusted her crew's judgment, and the fact that her gut told her these Pachin bore them no ill will. Firm in this conviction, her mind forged ahead. "I'm sure my officers told you how we became marooned on this planet. This may seem forward of me, but would you be willing to help us get back to our ship?"

            The immediacy with which two of the Pachin glanced at the third told Janeway that a hierarchy of some sort existed. The leader seemed to pause and mull her proposition over. Squinting with bead-like eyes and vaguely blue-tinged long hair fluttering in the breeze the contemplative silence stretched out interminably for Janeway. Finally the Pachin looked directly into Janeway's eyes.

            "You must understand that we have no proof that what has happened to you truly has transpired," the male voice explained patiently. Janeway felt her hopes slip. "However, it is not unknown in this area for things such as you describe to happen. I am willing to bring you and your crew on a few of my fleet's ships to the ship you claim is yours. If, by talking to you and who is now in possession of your ship now, I can determine that the ship truly is yours, I will help in any way I can to return it to you. 

You must understand that many times other races have imagined alleged hijacking of ships, when in reality they only want the resources of the fleet to help them poach an unsuspecting ship and crew. I have no doubt though, that we will be able to help you."

Janeway nodded in ascent to the kind Pachin's offer. It only made sense for him to be skeptically wary of her. "I thank you on behalf of my crew here and those still held prisoner on _Voyager_, our ship," she clarified. 

Turning to the three crewmen that still stood behind her, Janeway ordered, "Tell everyone were moving off this planet." She indulged in a smile of her own. "It's not Earth, and it's not _Voyager_, so it's not home. Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

***

            He couldn't remember why he was doing it. There was a reason, a well thought out, noble one, but his brain refused to access the memories that held that information. All Harry's world consisted of embodied itself in the forms looming over him. Even standing, looking straight ahead only offered him a view of the Arthiorian's chest. He had no idea how long he had been standing, staring straight ahead. All he knew was that falling now would result in the same treatment it did before; a brutal beating until, hopefully, blessed unconsciousness. 

            "Your warp drive is offline. You will tell us how to repair it."

            As ironic as he found the situation to be, Harry didn't have a non-pain fogged part of his mind to appreciate it. They wanted information that was illegal for him to know, and if anyone found out, he would surely be punished. In that respect the intentions of the crew he had been with and the crew he was subjected to now had no difference in ideologies. With the Starfleet crew, though, it would have been something simple. Not being able to go to the mess hall, having no one talk to him, not even the Lieutenant Paris that had, for some reason, spoke to him only days before. The difference with these aliens, the Arthiorians, was different. They prided themselves in their methods of torture. 

            "I don't know," the young man rasped. The last time he had been able to drink water had been over a week ago. The only explanation he could think of for his continued survival lay in the idea that when he was hauled to sickbay the Doctor had been able to give him some liquids, somehow. He only remembered fleeting moments from those times anyway. At one point he thought he saw an angel standing over him, tears in her soft, beautiful eyes. He had wanted so badly to tell her not to cry, not to soil her ethereal face on account of him. It had only been a hallucination though, a side effect of sleep deprivation and torture drugs. He should have known better, no angel would come to save or mourn over him. 

            "How stupid do you think we are? You were working with your technology when we found you, and ever since then more and more problems have erupted from this infernal ship. You know how to cause it to malfunction, so you know how to fix what you have done." Persuasively the alien accented his point by knocking Harry so hard against the face he fell to the floor, head ringing. Every nerve in his body sent overwhelming spurts of pain to be processed, thanks in part to the drugs he had been forced to have, and also because there was no place anymore that didn't harbor some bruise, some hastily half-mended bone, some bloody gash. The drugs that he had been forced to take had caused him to throw up any food he might have still had in his stomach, burning his throat along with his screams.

            Even returning to the forced lifetime of servitude would be a brighter option than his current condition. Struggling weakly to rise for fear of being kicked while he was down, Harry knew that even though he was not a Starfleet officer, and could never be one, there was no way he would give into these bastards. He knew that there were others on board, and he would not let them be treated in the same demeaning way he was. It wasn't just the Starfleet thing to do; it was the right thing to do.

            "No."

            It started all over again.

***

            "Kes," the hail was soft and urgent. "We're almost ready to tell the Doctor that all of the projectors are online."

            Glancing sideways at her partner in crime, Kes's at first thought that she couldn't possibly have heard what she did. 

            "Are you sure, Neelix?" She didn't mean to sound conciliatory, but she had to voice her disbelief. "How could we have them all online? I only remember going into sectors 12, 05, 22, and 10. That should have put about 10 of the holo-emitters online. If you did yours then that means we have a sum of 20. Didn't you say there were 32 emitters total?"

            "Yes," Neelix admitted. Before continuing he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that their taskmasters who oversaw their every move didn't get suspicious. "But according to the schematics, everything is online. I noticed that before, when I told you where to go, the holo-emitters in the area where most of the Arthiorians are stationed were already completed. The most dangerous places like the bridge, engineering, and the armory just to name a few. I didn't believe it, but since we got this part of the computer up and running, I did a diagnostic like B'Elanna taught me. They all check out. All of them."

            Kes shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. I know B'Elanna had all of the kinks worked out of the system, but I remember her saying to me that she regretted not having time before the attacks to try them out. She felt guilty that she hadn't put in enough time to put them online earlier to help the casualties from Engineering."

            They pondered the quandary, while pretending to be unobtrusive. Having been given permission, Neelix stirred the concoction that would be their food while thinking. Making things, especially food, always helped him think. It was a perfect blending of order, going by the directions, and creative liberties, deciding for himself what a pinch was, and if something needed a pinch of this, or a pinch of that. It allowed him to think outside the box, but still within reason. He had made enough for three, thinking that perhaps, out of some strange twist of fate, their guards would let them take something to the young man they held. Seeing the unshed tears in his beloved's eyes made him hate the Arthiorians all the more. Not only for hurting Harry, but also through him hurting the one thing he loved most in the universe. The tugging of guilt kept him more focused than ever on their escape plan. 

            He wouldn't say he had been harsh to the young Asian, far from it in his opinion. The young man was a face he knew, but simply wasn't one he interacted with. Neelix consoled his conscience by reminding himself that he had never gone out of his way to be unduly cruel to the boy. It wasn't his fault that when Harry came to the mess hall no one spoke to him. If he wasn't going to seek out conversation there would be no reason for anyone to reach out a hand to him. The Talaxian had to admit that he didn't know the whole story concerning why the young man was treated with the distain that he sometimes was, or the non-caring that the crew showed for him. He knew that these people had a reason for everything though, something they could justify every action with. He had never come across a decision that he could successfully refute, and since had stopped trying.

            Startling himself, Neelix skated a skeptical glance Kes's way. "Do you think Harry could have done it?"

            Contrary to what he thought, Kes didn't gape at him. She didn't automatically discount his idea. Staring intently at him, as if to discern from where he got the idea, he could see her contemplating his idea in her mind. Looking at the prospect from all directions she settled on, "It's possible."

            "Highly possible," Neelix corrected, realizing that his idea had more verisimilitude then he first thought. "We do know that he was involved in some sort of sabotage when he was caught, and the only reason we think he doesn't have the talent to do it is because we've never given him the chance. Who knows what he can do? This was the best idea that we could come up with to take back the ship, and I bet that Harry could think up the same thing if we just gave him a little credit."

            "A little credit would be more than he's ever gotten." Kes locked eyes with Neelix through the sudden steam of the frying food. "Neelix, I really feel as if there is more wrong with this situation then the ship being taken over and what the Arthiorians are doing to Harry."

            Having her say this seemed to bring all of the lingering thoughts that had plagued Neelix to life. Quietly he admitted, "So I'm not the only one."

            "Let's promise, when this is all over, that we'll go talk to Captain Janeway. If nothing else good comes out of this, we can at least try." Deciding that the food was done, and needing some distraction, Neelix turned to dish the food on two plates, leaving the third portion in the pan. 

            Kes leaned over the counter, elbows on the table, looking pensively at Neelix's back. "All I know is that we have to do something."

***

            "Captain, you must understand that when we hail _Voyager_, you cannot be seen on our bridge. I will let you and your officer stand on my bridge, but do not interfere." The captain of the Pachin ship, Osrrin, meaningfully gestured to the back of the cramped bridge. Janeway, who had been standing as close to the command chair as possible without sitting in it looked startled at first at the request, but nodded. 

            "Of course," she replied neutrally. Purposefully she strode towards the right-hand side of the bridge, Tuvok following closely behind. She had decided to bring only one other officer with her onto the Pachin bridge, knowing from her own experience that more would feel like an intrusion to the Captain. As she watched Osrrin settle confidently into his command chair she felt her heart twist. The thought that someone else sat in her chair was sacrilegious. A personal insult to the core of her being. 

            She surveyed the crew, noting how they did their jobs as efficiently as her own crew. Half of the reason she had brought Tuvok to the bridge with her instead of someone like Chakotay was because she thought that, tactically, having the weapons and defense officer within speaking range would be an asset to their assault. Interestingly though, the Pachin hadn't asked any bits of advice yet. It was obvious to the Starfleet Captain that her claim to the ship wasn't fully believed yet. Soon she would be proven right, she was sure, and they could attack. 

            The blue-tinged lights of the bridge suddenly turned to a pulsating, glowing, aqua color. She had learned that the Pachin had evolved on a 97% water planet, and therefore still bore a resemblance to their aquatic ancestors. The water colored, normal lights, the barely visible gill-like structures on their temples…the doctor would have enjoyed examining them. 

            Thinking of the Doctor reminded her of the hostages, and in turn the ship, which brought her face to face with the task at hand: rescuing them.

            "Ship, dead ahead," the Pachin in the bow of the bridge announced. Situated differently than her own bridge, Janeway had to guess where positions were. Universally the captain's chair sat regally in the center, and what appeared to be the helm stood at the front. Directly to the right of the helm, at a connected console that at one point in time in Starfleet's history would have been the navigator's chair, sat a young girl that seemed to study the sensors and prime the weapons. Farther to the left of the helm was situated what could only be the engineers station, and for a fleeting moment Janeway congratulated herself for not bringing Torres to the bridge. She would have been so busy tearing apart the circuitry of the ship they wouldn't have been able to get anything constructive done. To the left of this console a smaller console monitored the shields and other aspects of ships functions such as structural integrity and life support. Lastly, between that console and the 'navigator' console stood a Pachin whose job revolved solely around communications. 

            "Do we have a positive identity lock?" Ossrin queried calmly. Despite his outward calm, he leaned forward in his chair, as if the answer would enter his ears quicker if he were closer to the woman answering it. 

            "Yes, sir. It matches the configuration of the ship Captain Janeway identified." Ossrin spared a quick glance in Janeway's direction, letting her know that she had passed the first test. Unlike Tuvok, Janeway had been thoroughly grilled on different aspects of her ship. Certainly she could only divulge bits and pieces of information. It's not like she couldn't be expected to give the primary computer core codes or the self-destruct codes, but she sacrificed much more information than she normally would have been comfortable with for the sake of getting her ship back. Even with some of the more outrageous questions Janeway had the feeling she was being tested, one Captain to another, as Ossrin compared what she would say about her ship to what he would say about his. Considering they hadn't all been shot out an airlock proved to her that at the very least she hadn't failed her first of what would undoubtedly be many trials.

            "Match speed and course," Ossrin didn't hesitate or turn as he issued his next order that would have been just as appropriate coming out of Janeway's mouth. "Hail them."

            There was no answering affirmative other than the silent ripple of the main view screen that dominated the front wall of the bridge. Oval in shape, the image solidified into the carefully calm and confident figure of Janeway's current adversary. Looking directly at the screen the Arthiorian commander questioned innocently, "I am the commander of this vessel. Is there something I can help you with?"

            Even from her poor perspective Janeway could see the slight tenseness that suddenly took residence in Ossrin's back. When he spoke, however, there was no indication of his agitation. 

            "My fleet was in this part of space when we picked up the plasma leaking from your damaged warp drive. It seems that your ship is in a sorry state indeed. Perhaps it is time for you to purchase a new one. You have obviously been in possession of this ship for many years. Perhaps one too many." Janeway bristled at the insults to her ship. The reasonable part of her brain assured her that it was all part of a plan that Ossrin and the others really were on her side. The more passionate side of her made her clench her fists in anger.

            "I have been captain of this ship for many years," the Arthiorian commander assured a little too readily. Attempting to curry favor with the Pachin commander he added, "and you are correct in what you say."

            "Really?" Ossrin let the disbelief show in his voice. The Arthiorian hesitated, obviously attempting to gauge whether or not to keep up his ruse in the hopes that he could convince this new intruder, or if he should run while he had the chance. With the armaments of his new ship he might be able to take on the ships that threatened his new prize, but it would damage the ship all the more.

            A tingle ran across Janeway's skin, a secret sense awoke in her and she could tell that Ossrin had been convinced of her claim. Suddenly his tactics became clear to her. She hadn't been able to ignore the fact that she had been watched out of the corner of Ossrin's eye through the whole exchange, and now she knew why. The true captain of _Voyager_ would never let Ossrin get away with slighting the ship the way he had. The Arthiorian had simply let the barb by, hoping instead to get on Ossrin's better side. Little did he know that by not defending _Voyager_ he had signed his own eviction notice. 

            Ossrin turned to face her and clearly, and without closing the channel, said, "Captain, I believe we have found your ship. If you would let your tactical officer assist us, we will attempt to retrieve it for you."

            Janeway nodded, and smile of triumph lighting her features. Tuvok strode towards the weapons console, and in his stride she was sure she saw a semblance of pride and readiness to get back their ship. The look of shock on the Arthiorian's face was quickly replaced by a tactical view of the region, and Ossrin's face turned grim. He knew that they were not done. 

            "Captain, you said that there were still crewmembers on board your ship. Do you think they will take the chance to escape and help us retake your ship?"

            "Absolutely," Janeway affirmed with conviction. At the very least she could be sure of Neelix, Kes and the Doctor. Whether or not Harry helped them was a moot point. He couldn't do much other than possibly get himself shot anyway.

***

            The violent shuddering of the ship was an instant giveaway. Brutally knocking Kes to the floor the ship seemed tired of so many people fighting over and therefore rebelled from friend and foe alike. Grabbing Kes's arm to hoist her from the floor and steady her on her feet, Neelix staggered towards the access panel in the galley. Initially surprised by the jolt, the two Arthiorians had rushed from the room, not caring about the two aliens, but instead about their control of their newest asset. Leaving Kes and Neelix alone to implement their and the Doctor's plan.

            "That must be Captain Janeway." Kes held on to the bar as the ship rocked again. "We need to do it now. Tell the Doctor."

            If he thought it strange to be taking orders from a petite, young girl, Neelix showed no signs of it. Instead he called to the Doctor, "Are you ready Doctor? We are about to transfer your program."

            The doctor's voice filtered over the intercom, sarcastic as usual. Nothing seemed to faze that part of his programming. "I suppose this means I'm going in alone. Some cavalry."

            "You'll have some allies," Neelix glanced at Kes, acknowledging her addition to the plan, "but most of the action will have to be done by you. We're getting ready to transfer you now."

            "I'm ready." With that assurance, Kes leaned over Neelix's shoulder and delicately pressed an oblong button. The ship rocked again, as if recoiling from their work and sent them both sprawling on the floor. Holding each other for security and comfort, the Talaxian and Ocampa waited and hoped, knowing that everything else was in someone else's hands.

***

            "I order you to stand down!" The doctor winced as a holographic Janeway's voice rang out over the bridge. The representation of the captain was obviously a horrible facsimile of the original, but had nonetheless served its purpose. Smoothly he interrupted,

            "I suggest you do what she says. You have no idea how violent Captain Janeway can become." 

            The merciless blood colored lights that shadowed the bridge only accentuated his threat and illuminated the look of stark panic and disbelief on the Arthiorian commander's face. Having initially defied gravity by the height from Janeway's command chair from which he jumped the Doctor's trained medical eye could see the signs of immense, almost to the point of incapacitating, fear. 

Not being able to keep his voice from trembling in front of his crew, who had been struck as dumb as him, he demanded, "How is this possible? You were left lightyears away! This is impossible!"

When programming their 'help' Neelix and Kes had been prudent enough to incorporate some improvisational subroutines into the captain's holographic personality. "There is nothing impossible about it. I am here to take my ship back with the help of my crew. Surrender now."

"You are being boarded," the EMH reminded the commander, and as another blow buffeted the ship, "and you obviously are no match for our new ships. For your health, I suggest you agree to Captain Janeway's proposition."

"You're ghosts! Aren't you?" The fear quickly turned to horror. "Demons who will not let this ship be!"

The Arthiorians appeared to be more superstitious than even the Doctor could have imagined. Pouncing on the opportunity, he could only hope that his holographic comrade would follow his lead. "That is true. When a being of the flesh is wronged, they have a choice to avenge themselves to those that have caused them pain. Whether that takes weeks, months, years, or eons. This ectoplasmic formation," he gestured to Janeway, "will not leave this ship until you do. You wondered why system crashes continued to occur, even after you apprehended your saboteur. This is the reason. The crew, alive or dead, will not rest until what is rightfully theirs is returned to them."

"The dead have come to reclaim what is rightfully theirs…and they have allies in the real world. Please, sir, let us leave before they plague us forever. No ship is worth that!" One of the distraught crewmen, pressed as close to the outer wall as possible, pleaded with his captain.

"I order you to stand down," the holographic Janeway ordered once again. Her face held the same fierce determination that he had seen on it time and time again. Strangely, the Doctor found himself appreciative of his two other crewmates attention to detail, though their dialogue programming could use some work.

"Only if you allow us to leave freely." The stipulate to the Starfleet ultimatum was understandable. Had the Arthiorians been stupid there would be no way they could have taken over Voyager in the first place. Though the specification had been directed at Janeway, the hologram glanced meaningfully in the EMH's direction. Recognizing superior programming she deferred to his better judgment. 

Knowing that that not agreeing could cause senseless deaths, for as far as he knew the Arthiorians could have a Bushido code of sorts and fight to the last man, taking down every Starfleet officer they could, the Doctor found it a compromise worth taking. Rebelling from another attack, the ship's lights flickered, momentarily dousing the bridge in darkness. The amount of damage that the ship was sustaining briefly showed in the nanoseconds before the emergency lighting restored the visual light spectrum, for everything was silent. This could be attributed to the fact that, at the moment the lights died, so did the two holograms holding the new bridge crew at bay. The shot from the aggressing ships had penetrated some part of the failing shields and damaged a minor program storage unit. Unbeknownst to him, a few of the Doctor's secondary subroutines suddenly found themselves deleted. As power automatically restored itself marginally, the Doctor and Janeway flashed back into existence. No one, not even the holograms, being the wiser about what had momentarily transpired.

None of the Doctor's recent past memory circuits had been affected, and the first words out of his mouth after his brief deactivation and reactivation were, "Agreed. Signal your surrender to the other ships, immediately." _Before there's nothing left of this ship to fight for._


	5. Chapter 5

***

"Captain, there is a signal coming from _Voyager_." The communications officer on board seemed surprised to report such a finding. Restraining herself from answering, Janeway stole a puzzled glance at Tuvok. As of the present time _Voyager_ had been fighting valiantly, just as Janeway knew she could. Though there was no chance that the battered ship could win, Janeway knew that her ship still had plenty of life left in her. Perhaps, she simply wouldn't let being who had so violated her access that hidden power that had saved the lives on board so many times. 

Tuvok stared impassively back at her, knowing her question, but unable to answer. He knew that their last shot had finally penetrated the ship's shields, but the subsequent damage was not enough to warrant surrender. His logical mind surmised that foul play was at hand.

"On screen," Ossrin ordered. He knew how hard it had to be for Janeway to see them firing on her ship, it showed in her eyes every time the familiar whine of the omnichronic-photonic weapons fired. His tactical mind had made the same deductions Tuvok's had, but he nonetheless took the chance of receiving the hail. After all, he would want to take the chance if her were in Janeway's position.

An unfamiliar face appeared on the screen. Not the expected hulking, battle-scarred face of an Arthiorian commander, but the smooth, elated expression of someone from the same species as Captain Janeway.

"This is the Chief Medical Officer of the _USS Voyager_, I request that you break off your battle immediately." After his declaration, he eyes shifted to the left, as if listening to a more important piece of battle information. He nodded slightly and his gaze returned to his view of Ossrin.

"We will be launching 10 lifepods in a matter of seconds," he informed them. "Do not fire on these. If you do, it will be considered an act of hostility and—Captain!"

The undisguised surprise and joy etched on the Doctor's face was unmistakable. Janeway smiled at the effect her movement into camera range elicited, and a wave of homecoming washed over her. "Doctor, I take it you held down the fort while we were on our little vacation. I hate to cut short your stint of command, but I'd like my ship back if that's all right with you." 

"Absolutely Captain!" His enthusiasm arced across the transmission. "You must understand that in order to get the ship back I had to promise that we would not pursue the Arthiorians," he explained as an internal shudder ran through the ship as the lifepods disengaged from the ship, "we have to let them go."

"You did what you had to," Janeway consoled, but inside she stewed in her inability to bring retributions against those who had hijacked her ship.

Ossrin interrupted, "I may remind you, Captain, that just because your Doctor made that promise that does not mean that we are held to the same stipulation." He eyes shone with human-like mischief, "You can be guaranteed that they will not escape without paying for what they have done under Pachin law."

Janeway nodded her thanks to the commander' promise. "Thank you for everything you have done Commander Ossrin. If there is anything we can do for you…?"

Ossrin smiled, pleased at finding such an ally in such an unlikely place. "I'm sure we can discuss it when your crew is safe onboard."

"Yes," Janeway agreed, "Lower shields Doctor. We're coming home."

***

            _Voyager_'s wounds were new and vicious, eating away at the precious integrity of systems that was left. It pained Janeway, and she saw that same pain mirrored on the faces of all of the crew, as she transported onto the ship. The turbolift ride to the bridge jerked unsteadily as it moved from deck to deck, fighting its way to the top of the saucer section. As the bridge crew rushed to their stations, assessing as they went the extent of the damage to their department, Janeway and Chakotay stepped towards the center seats to confer with the two people waiting there for them.

            The Doctor never interrupted the abbreviated story that the Neelix told her, and she could tell that certain parts had been edited out for her and Chakotay's benefit. Nonetheless, she saw Chakotay stiffen at least three times in indignation, not the least when Neelix retold with barely controlled rage the way he, and more importantly to him, Kes had been treated. After their briefing, which Janeway was sure had been overheard by B'Elanna, Tom, and Tuvok, Janeway's first question was about the brave Ocampa girl.

            "Where is Kes?" She asked, almost fearing the question. The reactions from the two men were starkly different. While the Doctor's mouth turned in a puzzled frown, Neelix's face twisted in a combination of pride and embarrassment. 

            "In there," he pointed to the door that led to her readyroom. As Janeway turned to follow Neelix's directions he added, "but I wouldn't go in their Captain."

            Before Janeway could ask the question, Chakotay did. "Why not?"

            "It's not pretty in there," Neelix warned. "I left because it disturbed me so much. I really suggest that you don't go in there Captain."

            Little did he know, but Neelix had only piqued the Captain's curiosity, not to mention her danger instincts. "But you left Kes in there?"

            "She may not look like it Captain, but Kes is much stronger than I am. She thought she could help and there was nothing I could do to change her mind," Neelix answered thinly. It was obvious that he didn't like what he had done. He placed a hand on Janeway's shoulder in entreaty, "Please don't go in there. You've had a hard enough time as it is, we'll figure this out. Besides, I don't think he wants to see you right now."

            That sealed Janeway's decision. "Neelix, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I want to know who this 'he' is and protect my crew from him."

            Before Neelix had a chance to open his mouth and explain further, Janeway turned her back on the discussion, and at the same time Neelix's warnings, and strode purposefully to the door of her ready room. Without pausing, she entered.

            "Neelix, what the hell are you talking about?" After everything they had been through, Chakotay was not in the mood for ambiguous answers to straightforward questions.

            Knowing that the Doctor couldn't help him, and that the rest of the bridge crew was listening intently despite the busy noises they were making, Neelix began to explain as Janeway learned for herself.

***

            The door closed, locking out the bridge, the ship, and the rest of the universe for the time that she was in this room. This room had seen the vulnerabilities of Captain Janeway; the sorrows and regrets that she sometimes couldn't keep locked up in her heart. The walls were unlit by any means, and the only lights came from the interminable, tender starscape outside of the viewport. The temperature was markedly lower, and the crispness of the air had an aura of the coldness that Janeway associated only with death. She could almost feel the icy claws of some hidden horror wrapping around her shoulders.

            It was hard to shake the feelings that crowded her heart and mind as she stood immobile a few feet inside the door. Her waning sureness of only a few seconds ago accented her senses to the point that only fear could. With these heightened senses, her ears focused on something. To her emotion-flooded mind, the walls seemed to be softly weeping, as if shedding tears for all of the pain that had crossed this room.

            Shaking herself from the irrational state of mind Janeway mustered her voice under control and made her presence known. "Who's here?"

            Immediately someone answered, a familiar voice Janeway was not used to hearing laced with pain. "Shhh…Captain."

            "Kes?" Janeway whispered, feeling the underlying urgency in Kes's response. Now that her mind had dispensed with its earlier fanciful ideas, she tracked down the source of the voice, and in turn, the tears.

            When Kes didn't reply, Janeway didn't understand. Carefully picking her way through the familiar room she came upon two figures, huddled on the couch. Her eyes finally adjusting to the nearly dark conditions, Janeway's throat tightened at what she saw. 

            On the couch Kes held the huddled form of Harry, soaking wet and sobbing quietly into her shoulder. Opting to ignore the Captain, Kes stroked his hair comfortingly, murmuring to him in a combination of Ocampan and English. The musical cadence of her native language seemed to console him little as he continued to cry. Even if she had wanted to, Janeway would not have been able to say anything, for fear of disturbing even such a heart aching scene.

            Shifting slightly, Kes moved to face the distraught young man before her, grasping his hands firmly between her own. "We're not going to hurt you, Harry. You need to try and trust me. I swear I'm not going to hurt you. Everything's okay." She didn't seem to mind that her own outfit was slowly absorbing some of the water that soaked the boy through to the skin. The final method of keeping their captive awake that the Arthiorians had tried consisted of dousing him in water every time his eyes drooped in an attempt to prolong his agony. To make it more sinister they had lowered the temperature in the room, adding hypothermia which induced a sleepiness all its own, to the mix. The brutal cycle had been kept up to the last minute before the Arthiorians had evacuated, and as a going away gift the Arthiorian commander had frozen the environmental controls for the room. The pale sheen that bordered on blue that tinged the ex-captives extremities unnerved both women in the room.

            Rather than stare at her in answer, the torn boy simply stared down at where his hands laid enveloped in Kes'. He wanted to believe her, more than anything else, but there was no way that she could be telling the truth. The warmth of her body and spirit called to him though, after so many days and nights of cold terror. The woman he had thought epitomized the idea of an angel just a few short days ago now symbolized all of the lies he had ever been told, all of the façades he had ever had to put up because of others' expectations. His mind was numb to the thought that anything could change; whoever had said that the universe thrived on change had never taken the slightest look at his life. Everything was not okay, nor would it ever be.

            Painfully he shook his head, not being able to find it in himself emotionally or physically to answer her with words. He expected her to abruptly release him, throw him to the floor for rejecting the first hospitality he had ever been shown in his life. An equal response of hostility outwardly as he felt inwardly because of his perceived ingratitude to her compassion. Instead the ever-radiant woman squeezed his hands tightly in comfort, then ran her hands soothingly over the various bruises and scars he had accumulated on his hands after being thrown into the room's toppled and destroyed furniture so many times. It still astounded his mind that he could have been abused so easily: a statement to his shock. It didn't bother him anymore that it had happened; contrarily a morbid fascination gripped him whenever his mind didn't cower in fear from his demented flashbacks.

            The tenderness she showed towards him, the unrestrained kindness, was so out of place from everything else he had experienced in the recent past that his mind couldn't process it. Dazed from his ordeal, his mind came up with pictures to watch from a distance, antique, soundless movie reels of what had happened to him. This time, though, they were different. An angel, the mythical creature that he was sure couldn't exist, came to him on shining wings of ivory feathers dispersing the evil men that had occupied the same space she now possessed like pollen in the wind. The angel wore the face of the savior in front of him, and as reality set it, the dream shattered. No one had come to save him before because no one cared, and no one did now. That thought pervaded his body, as much a part of his living as his own blood, and for once he was not able to keep his emotions locked away. Everything had built to this point, and shamefully he began to cry again.

            Thinking nothing less of him, Kes resumed her initial position, arms tightly bound around the maltreated Asian. Expectantly she looked in Janeway's direction.

            Janeway had could do nothing but stand frozen, shocked to immobility at the naked desperation she saw, and stare horrorstruck at the scene before her. She couldn't see Harry's face, but from the condition of his clothes, the soul-splitting whimpers, and violent shivers that Kes did her best to control with a tightening grip, Janeway could tell that something profoundly horrific had happened here.

            Finally able to speak around the lump in her throat, she softly asked, "Kes, what happened?"

            Returning her gaze to the person she held: curled up, shivering from fatigue, cold, and things Janeway's mind refused to think about, Kes hugged Harry closer as she answered. "Neelix and I found him here right before you came up to the bridge. We hadn't any time before, and we had no idea where he was. The internal sensors on the bridge had been shut down by the Arthiorians because their Captain didn't want any of his own men spying on him, so we had no idea." It was clear to Janeway that Kes was trying to justify the lack of response that she imagined. Janeway could find no fault. "He was so scared," Kes admitted in a soft voice, pausing ever so slightly with her hand resting entwined in Harry's hair, reliving the memory. "I think he thought that we were going to hurt him. The only thing that made it worse was that he didn't run away, like he was used to the way he had been treated. He looked so pained, and alone, and just didn't seem to want to do anything anymore. Not fight, not live, not anything. I know what it can be like, with Jabin," her voice broke at the memory, "and I couldn't just leave him like that." She looked directly at Janeway with fierce determination, "He needs to go to sickbay."

            The implications of her statements were too great, and Janeway didn't want to think about them now. Her mind was flooded with thoughts. It seemed that every time she entered this room something happened to the innocent boy she saw before her now. Something that he had no control over, and which probably killed him in one way or another, bit by bit. Her mind's-eye flashed back to a thousand times over the years when she had treated him unfair, like he didn't deserve to be given even the most basic of respects: the respect for life. She now knew how wrong she had been, how she should have realized that there was something else there. A fire of spirit that she had seen hinted at and promptly dismissed so many times because she didn't want to think about it.

            Those words haunted her now. Forcing herself to think about the implications of Kes's last statement, Janeway bit back a curse. It was obvious that he had been abused, the way he flinched in pain from Janeway's light touch as she placed a hopefully comforting hand on his back. She promised herself she wouldn't shy away from the implications this time. There was no way that she could and keep a clear conscience. 

            "The transporters are online. Beam to sickbay and transfer the Doctor's program back to the sickbay holo-emitters. Do whatever you need to do." She couldn't bear to make it an order, to take away the right of self-determination that she and other people had taken away so often before. 

            Though she nodded, Janeway noticed that Kes didn't make a move to free a hand to tap her communicator and request a beam-out. Kes was too afraid that if she let go of her self-appointed charge something horrible would happen, though she couldn't imagine what could be worse than what Harry had already been subjected to. Running her hands through his hair again she soothed, " It's all right now, Harry. You're safe. I promise."

            Whispering orders into her own combage, Janeway repeated to B'Elanna what she wanted, without offering any type of explanation yet, and took her own badge off. Tenderly she placed it on the right hand side of Harry's chest, the side that she could reach and which wasn't turned seeking protection in Kes's shoulder. She tapped it a final time as it adhered itself to Harry's tattered shirt and the pair disappeared, lighting up the whole room. Promising herself she would visit sickbay the minute the EMH would allow her, she exited the re-darkened room.


	6. Chapter 6

***

            Walking into sickbay was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. Janeway had received a 24 hour reprieve from having to think about what she had found in her ready room, and when Chakotay had questioned her about it initially she simply replied that there were more pressing matters to attend to. Now those matters were taken care of, and her crew had fallen into the graceful pattern of a competent and trusted team. Minus four members, though, which brought Janeway's mind back to other unpleasant realities.

            One of those realities had come in the form of a message from the EMH, blinking steadily and patiently on her desktop screen when she was forced to retire to her quarters by a very adamant Chakotay.

            The EMH's ageless face appeared on her screen, a slightly perturbed look gracing his sometimes acetic features. "Captain, I must warn you of a very serious problem that I have found residing in my program." His face twisted wryly, "Or, rather, did reside in my program."

            Usually the Doctor was over protective of his programming to the point of absurdity, so the fact that tampering with it brought a thin smile to the physician's face startled Janeway.

            "It came to my attention when Kes was here that it would be prudent to do a self diagnostic to assure that I was in perfect health, so to speak. I assure you that before I worked on Mr. Kim I gave my programming a surface scan, and Kes was overseeing my procedures constantly."

            Something of the Doctor's statement snagged in Janeway's mind. While the image of the EMH gathered a breath she mouthed the word 'Kim' wonderingly. So that was his name. She had never bothered to remember. For some reason it felt like an egregious transgression on her part now.

            "Getting back to the point, before re-installing the subroutines deleted, Kes persuaded me to check and see exactly what each one did. Curiosity about myself drove me to agree with Kes, and with a bit of ingenuity on our part we discovered what the subroutines did." Appreciation lit his eyes and he stared fondly behind him presumably at the assistant he spoke so highly of. "One of the subroutines was a precisely guided deletion program. This puzzled both Kes and I until we donned our detective hats and discovered what had been deleted from my memory by this program."

            The Doctor leaned closer to his own screen, as if afraid that Janeway would miss his point should he not be as much in her face as the screen allowed. "The files deleted had to do with the alterations to my program pertaining to Mr. Kim. According to those files, there was absolutely nothing wrong, physically, mentally, emotionally, or otherwise, with Mr. Kim that would be attributed to his heritage. In layman's terms, Captain," the Doctor's eyes bored straight into her heart, "there is no reason that Mr. Kim could not be as much a helpful member of society as you or me." His caustic cynicism struck again, "Well, you at least. I can only surmise that the subroutines that were deleted by accident were initially installed due to bigotry on the part of either my creator or Starfleet. Every time I would do a scan on Mr. Kim the subroutine would activate, deleting the true findings of my examination with pre-programmed false data to keep Mr. Kim in indefinite bondage.

            "Of course, you may have already deduced this yourself, since I was informed by Kes that Mr. Neelix had already told you of Mr. Kim's pivotal role in the re-taking of this ship. Specialized technical knowledge was needed to accomplish those tasks Captain, and there is every indication that Mr. Kim completed those tasks. I suggest that you study your own records, as I am sure they will corroborate my theory. What you do after that is your own affairs, but as a physician I am bound not to harm sentient life. What has happened in the past with the falsifying of Mr. Kim's documents falls under harm in my remaining programming, so I will not be an accomplice any longer."

            The revelation had caused her to rock back in her chair, aghast at the implications. The second thing she did was hail the computer. She needed Chakotay's guidance then, and with their discoveries he had persuaded her to stand outside the doors she was facing now. Upon sensing her approach, the door slid open admitting her to sickbay, and signing two fates.

            For the greater part of the time he had spent in sickbay Harry had spent his time unconscious. Unable to cope with everything, he eventually had to be sedated so the Doctor and Kes could treat his various wounds. Unluckily for Janeway he had been revived, and his stare silently followed her as she walked towards him. 

            This was a Harry that Janeway had never seen before. He knew he could no longer pretend, could no longer lie, and therefore didn't try to hide the truth. It startled her how deep, soulful, and intelligent his chocolate eyes looked, now that she found herself staring into them. He had a look on his face that easily would have fit on a man staring down his execution squad: showing no fear, no regret, just the cool composure that comes with the knowledge that a life is going to end.

            Most likely Kes' doing, he had a new, freshly replicated outfit on that looked as sterile as the sickbay walls that surrounded him. As he turned ever so slightly to follow her movements she saw the shallow phantoms of pain cross his face and guilt struck her again. He seemed like a totally different person, here in this environment, looking clean, calm, and brave. She had never seen him with a crisp gold shirt tucked neatly into regulation Starfleet pants and shined black boots. It unnerved her with how human he truly looked.

            "Harry, I don't know where to begin," Janeway admitted. "I-We have been so wrong for so long. Why didn't you tell us?"

            His eyes lit with understanding, anticipation of her question not making his response sound any less sincere. "I tried, once, only once. After that I was afraid of what would happen if I ever tried again." His eyes emitted feelings of hurt, pain, and understanding far beyond his years, trying to communicate the desperation he had felt.

            "Someone hurt you simply because you said-what? That you could understand the workings of a console? That you could pilot a shuttle?" Janeway couldn't understand the maliciousness implied.

            The mended-but-not-fixed young man's gaze slid from hers, his mouth staying closed and unwilling to answer. There were some habits that couldn't be broken as easily. There were so many times when he had done something with the conviction that it was right. Still more frequently he found himself being hurt because of those convictions and eventually he found that he could not speak out anymore.

            Janeway moved closer, placing both hands on the edge of the Asian's bed, convinced that she couldn't just let the subject drop. "Harry, you're far away from those people and those places now. I wish you had told me."

            He was not put off by her placations. Raising his eyes once again to hers, in a tone suffused with innocence, he questioned, "Buy why wouldn't you react the way everyone else did? Why wouldn't you be one of the people who installed that subroutine in the Doctor's program? I was not alone in being the way I am. I knew many other people in the same position I was, and none of them ever received anything other than the life that every other person like me had. They were smarter and better than I was. Why was I supposed to believe that I had a chance when they didn't? What guarantee did I have that you would be any different than every other person I had known before?"

            Forcing herself not to be surprised by the information he knew, nor offended by his questions, Janeway couldn't help but feel like she had to stifle the reflex to avoid the answer on pretense that there was no way he could understand. Shoving the idea of dodging the answer with a force reserved for utterly appalling objects, Janeway searched for an answer. She couldn't find one. "None," she admitted. "And it's harder than you could imagine for me to say that."

            He nodded, sympathy on his face. Sympathy for her? Why? She didn't understand how he could pity her after everything she had done to him. Maybe he wasn't simply her equal; perhaps he was more of a person. "Apology accepted," he said, knowing that was what she wanted, no, needed, to hear.

            After being a Captain for as long as she had, Janeway could tell when someone was humoring her. "No, that's not enough. I want to try and fix what I've done. I talked to Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Torres, and Tom Paris." She didn't miss Harry's small smile at the last name she mentioned which he tried, too late, to wrestle under control. "We've decided that we are going to help you learn whatever you want. You seem to have a knack for engineering, and Torres said she would be happy to help you in any way she could. If," she looked at him sternly, "that's what you really want."

            "Yes," there was no hesitation in the patient's answer. "I would."

            "Tom offered to show you around, teach you the 'finer points of being a Starfleet officer' I believe were his exact words. He wants to help you fit in, probably because he knows more than any of us what it is like to be looked down upon."

            "He wants to be my friend?" Harry's eyes lit up with wonder. Like Neelix when introduced to new culinary tastes, he didn't seem to know what to do or where to start.

            "Yeah, I wanna be your friend, you got a problem with that?" Tom Paris swept in the room; bursting into the conversation with the lack of tact he was known for. 

            Harry looked in awe at his newest visitor whilst trying to figure out exactly what was being implied. Janeway blossomed into an irrepressible smile. "What's your answer, Cadet?"

            "I don't know what to say…."The overload of sudden compassion and caring about himself, of all people, confused him to no bounds.

            "I do," Paris announced, sharing a secret look with Kes. It wasn't pure happenstance that he had shown up at the time that he did. Still, he wanted to be here. "Say whatever you want."

            For the first time in his life that he could remember, Harry Kim made a decision for himself unafraid of any adverse consequences because he, for some reason, was convinced that he could trust these two people. "Yes."


End file.
